


"Live, Life, Love"

by whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: "You" find it, AU, Amnesia, Dave has a diary, Gen, Post-Apocalypse Earth, apocalyptic setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You found it when searching for supplies, trying to find food in an old residential area; there’s a surprisingly ample amount of canned goods left in places like these. It had stood out among the wreckage of an old apartment complex, a garishly pink journal with “Live, Life, Love” written in a manufactured, elegant script on the front, surprisingly new-looking in contrast to it’s surroundings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Live, Life, Love"

**Author's Note:**

> so i don't really know what this is. I just thought it would be a really interesting idea to explore so i'm developing the plot as i go along

my name is david l. strider and i am not the main character of this story

 

You trudge along the barren wasteland of this world, stepping over the long-forgotten debris of the past.

 

well i guess from your point of view i am or anyone else who happens to pick this up. im still a bit iffy on the details but jade said to just write and everything will fall into place or some vaguely mystical shit like that

 

The sun is a hot ball of burning gas at the highest point in the sky, and the book is a heavy weight in your hands.

 

i dont really see the point to this tbh but seeing as how this is jade were talking about and rose says i should do it too i guess it would probably be a good idea to do what they say

 

You found it when searching for supplies, trying to find food in an old residential area; there’s a surprisingly ample amount of canned goods left in places like these. It had stood out among the wreckage of an old apartment complex, a garishly pink journal with “Live, Life, Love” written in a manufactured, elegant script on the front, surprisingly new-looking in contrast to it’s surroundings.

 

i probly wouldve done it anyways because a diary is ironic as fuck and no way am i letting a golden opportunity like this pass me by

 

You’re still not sure why you picked it up.

 

but whatever. back to the point. david l. strider, most people call me dave and the l part of my name doesnt even matter so im not gonna explain it

 

You find something, finally; a small grocery store that’s still mostly intact. You don’t know what happened to this place that made everyone leave so suddenly, without even time for a riot. You wonder what happened to these people.

 

so heres the thing

 

You open the door. It gives with little resistance.

 

imma tell you my life story right here

 

The isles are dirty and cobwebbed, packages of food long taken by rot abandoned on the shelves. The cash register stands forsaken, easy pickings for any aspiring burglar. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. As far as you know, you’re the only person around for miles. Maybe the only person, period.

 

so go grab a snack and some aj and find a place to chill for a while, else ill take it as a slight against my honor. youre gonna want to hear this

 

You have your place marked with a finger smashed between the pages. You grab the least-dented can from a shelf – nice, mystery dinner today – and decide to humor this “dave”s wish. He’s probably dead, but whatever. You peruse some more of the shelves and find several glass bottles filled with amber liquid that seemed to have survived through the years.

 

You prod the chair behind the register with your foot. When it doesn’t immediately collapse, you sit in it and place the bottles of applejuice on the counter in front of you.

 

You open the can with a satisfying _scchhliiiick!_ and the mystery food is revealed to be… canned peaches. Cool. Being careful to not get any of the sticky syrup on the book from your hands, you pause before opening it again. Maybe as a show of respect for this kid who’s life you’re about to invade. It seems appropriate.

 

The moment over, you flip open the book and begin where you left off.

 

you got your snacks? all snuggled up cozy in a pile ready to get your pale on with some book? because youre going to be hearing about all my problems, baby

 

Piles? Pale? What is this kid talking about? Whatever. You move on.

 

first order of business after my name i guess. a/s/l, a/s/l, come on. spent 16.99 percent of my life on earth and .01 in space, and i dont even want to know how old i am with all my extra time added together

 

“Extra time”?

 

grew up in texas with my bro. gog it was hot as fuck over there i can still remember it now. i mean its not too hard to recall since im on lohac and its pretty fucking hot here but you get my point

 

Texas. You wonder if that’s what this place was called when it was still inhabited.

 

im not really sure what to say here that youll believe, but i guess it doesnt matter. it happened whether you believe in it or not. it keeps happening.

 

well. there aint no time like the present.

 

You snort. Bring it on, kid, I’m the last person on earth after a fucking apocalypse that I have no memory of.

 

my name is dave strider. when i was 13, my friends john egbert, rose lalonde, jade harley and i played a game. ha. like it was ever a fucking game. through this “game” we were able to survive the apocalypse by being transported to this place called the medium. weve all lived and died multiple times, literally. me more than anyone i guess but no biggie, i can deal. we met up with another game session’s players called the trolls, another race who actually created our universe in their session through various shenanigans i dont really want to get into

 

...Ah. Okay.

 

so thats my life. been killed hundreds of times and found my bros dead body, seen my friends die just in time for me to not be able to save them in different timelines. sucks. but im not here for a pity party. karkles would probably call me a PERVERTED NOOKMUNCH BULGELICKER WHO CAN’T KEEP HIS DISGUSTING PROTEINCHUTE SHUT FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS WITHOUT SPEWING THE FECAL WASTE THAT YOU CALL YOUR WORDS INTO EVERY CORNER OF PARADOX SPACE. OF COURSE YOU WOULD HIT ON A PERSON WHO YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW *EXISTS*, WHY WOULD I EXPECT OTHERWISE?

 

Whoever this “Karkles” is, you commend him for his spectacular imagery. Guy’s got a mouth.

 

whoever you are just be glad you arent stuck being forced to listen to how troll romance works every day. thank whatever god you hold dear that youre free from that hell, forever and ever amen.

 

It’s strange. The way he’s writing is like he expected you to pick this up and read. Not “you”, specifically, but still. Diaries aren’t normally intended to be read by strangers.

 

i gotta go, a dreambubbles coming and if i get this book lost in there there is no chance in any hell that ill be able to get it back

 

later

 

The page ends there. You see more lines of red text when you turn the page, but you close the book before you can register any actual words.

 

You hadn’t even touched your food, you realize when you set the book on the counter next to the peaches and applejuice. You take the time to do so now, and it’s almost with a ritualistic flair that you open the first bottle of applejuice.

 

“To Dave,” you mutter quietly, raising the bottle in the air. “And to the hope that he didn’t die a virgin.” You take a swig. You don’t know if he’s really dead or not; he did say he escaped the apocalypse after all. But you don’t know how long the book has been sitting there, and maybe one of those deaths of his finally stuck.

 

There are four bottles left, and you decide to keep those for later. As for the book… You glance at it once before standing up. The book can wait until tomorrow. This store will be good shelter tonight, keep you warm in case it gets cold. There aren’t any predators you’ve had to worry about so far, though; one of the pluses of possibly being the last living thing on the planet.

 

You push yourself into a small corner. The sky is dark now. You close your eyes. You sleep.


End file.
